I stared at him. ‘Where was the doorkeeper?’
‘Who knows? At the front door perhaps? Anyway, Lithputh went back to the house, and Kurso was left to wait again. Nobody came for him for days — by that time he was starving and shivering with cold, and he was almost glad to have his beating and get back to his work.’
‘I wonder what Lithputh and Hirsus were up to?’ I said, putting the last scraps of tile away and collecting up my tools. ‘Who was paying whom for what? And why meet secretly in the dark to do it?’
Junio thought about this for a moment. ‘Hirsus bribing Lithputh, perhaps, to let him come into the house again — like yesterday? Kurso didn’t seem to know — or care, once he knew that they weren’t selling him! He only told me any of the story because I stopped to eat some of that piece of bread and cheese we brought. He looked at it so longingly, I asked if he was ever hungry. And then it all came out — how he’d been locked up and starved for days.’
All this talk of bread and cheese reminded me that it was now long past midday and I had not eaten anything myself. The floor was almost finished now — only those last few tiles that I’d put in remained to be cleaned off, and that could not be done until they’d set, so I asked Junio to pass me the remnants of the food.
He did so, rather sheepishly — there was not a great deal left. (‘The poor boy looked so ravenous, master,’ Junio said apologetically, ‘and I thought that you’d be eating with the priests.’)
I had to wait while the mortar dried, so I ate my unexpectedly frugal meal, leaving Junio to load up our things and bring the handcart round to the front door. I didn’t offer to help him — that would teach him to give away my lunch! — and I was just finishing the last few crumbs of cheese when Lithputh came back into the room. He looked displeased to see me squatting there.
‘Thtill here, thitithen? I underthtood from your thlave that you had finished?’ He looked at the floor. ‘I thuppothe the work ith thatithfactory — it didn’t theem to take you very long. You were away for half the morning, too, the doorman tellth me. I hope you don’t ecthpect my mathter to pay you the prithe that he agreed — when he provided half the labour and you’re thimply thitting there?’
‘I agreed to do the job within a day,’ I said, blessing Gwellia’s astuteness. ‘And I’ve completed it in less. If anything, I should increase the price.’
Lithputh looked singularly unimpressed by this, and I could see that I was in for a long dispute before I saw my money. I was about to argue — my slave’s work is mine to sell — when it occurred to me that Lithputh might have an interest in seeing me paid less. As steward of the purse, he would doubtless have the opportunity to pocket some of the difference himself.
Perhaps that’s what made me confront him then and there, and say, conversationally, ‘Perhaps we could ask the temple to arbitrate between us? It was they who summoned me away, and I understand that you are friendly with one of the Imperial priests?’
I was aware of the door behind him opening, but I did not glance towards it. If Lithputh had anything to say, I was only too glad for Junio to witness it — especially if Lithputh didn’t know that he was there.
Lithputh didn’t have anything to say. He stood there silent, looking shocked.
‘Well?’ I urged him. ‘Isn’t that the case? Hirsus the priest has been here, more than once?’
It wasn’t Junio at the door, I realised. It was Kurso, and if Lithputh had not been so intent on me, he too would have heard that sharp intake of breath. But the Phrygian steward was too transfixed by my words to be aware of anything else.
‘Hirthuth!’ he exclaimed, with evident astonishment. ‘How did you come to hear of that? Did one of the houthhold tell you? Or have you been thpeaking to the prietht himthelf?’
‘I did need to hear from anyone. I have the testimony of my own two eyes. I saw him leaving yesterday, shortly after I left here myself.’ I said this thinking to reassure Kurso, but when I glanced towards the door the boy had disappeared. Lithputh was still staring at me. I went on, ‘And since I didn’t see him in the public rooms, I deduced the priest had been entertained here privately.’ It sounded a bit lame, when I said it, but the effect on Lithputh was remarkable.
‘Ah!’ he said. His manner had changed abruptly, and he almost squirmed. ‘Well then, I thuppothe you’ll have to know. . It’th nothing of importanth, really — just a buthineth matter between Hirthuth and my mathter.’
‘What kind of business?’ I demanded. I was genuinely curious. What did a miserly ex-legionary like Optimus Honorius want with an assistant Imperial priest and one-time slave?
Lithputh flushed and looked more embarrassed than ever. ‘That I can’t tell you, thitithen. If I knew the anthwer, which I don’t, my lipth would thtill be thealed. I am a private thteward, after all.’
‘I’ll speak to Optimus about it,’ I said, and hoped it sounded like a threat. ‘When I talk to him about the fees, perhaps? I shan’t leave here until that matter is resolved.’
‘Ah, ath to that,’ Lithputh began. He sounded suddenly conciliatory, as I’d hoped he might. ‘My mathter ithn’t here at prethent, but ath thoon ath he comth back I’ll thend it after you. I’m thure we can-’
But what we could have done, I never learned. At that moment Junio burst into the room.
‘Master,’ he said, without waiting for permission. ‘Can I have a word?’ He glanced at Lithputh. ‘For your ears alone, citizen pavement-maker. It may concern your patron. .’
Lithputh sniffed, and looked affronted, but he left the room.
I turned to Junio. ‘Bad news from Marcus? You look terrified!’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing to do with Marcus. I said that because I wanted to speak to you alone. Master, I think you’d better leave. The front way, too, as quickly as you can. There’s a crowd of people out there, massing at the back — quite a little group of them, all shouting and calling on the gods. The mood is getting ugly: some of them are armed with sticks and stones. I don’t know what’s provoked this, master, but something clearly has. I heard them shouting at the doorman. They know you’re in here — it’s you they’re looking for.’ He gulped. ‘It’s something to do with the problems at the temple. You’ve brought down divine wrath upon the town, they say — and only your death will satisfy the gods.’
Chapter Sixteen
An armed mob! Looking for me!
For the second time that day I felt my blood run cold. I had been alarmed by the seemingly supernatural events I’d seen, but this was a far more pressing threat. I have seen what angry crowds can do. Even the Roman authorities are afraid of riots — especially religious ones. See how they persecute the Druids. And the founder of the Christians was put to death — though the provincial governor was reluctant to do it, if the accounts are true — precisely at the demand of an angry mob like this.
Of course, I was a Roman citizen, which helped — but if the rabble got hold of me, dressed as I was in working clothes, I didn’t suppose they would stop to ask questions. Even if I survived their sticks and stones, and claimed my rights, they would probably haul me to the authorities and demand a trial on a charge of sacrilegious treason. And if that happened, not even Marcus or Pertinax could save me — all I could do was appeal to the Emperor, whose temple I had accidentally desecrated! Commodus thinks he’s Hercules and will not tolerate any slight to his divinity: men who do not show appropriate respect to an Imperial shrine often end up as fodder for the arena beasts. I could face worse vengeance than the mob’s.
But they had to catch me first. Under Roman law there can be no trial without the accused’s being present. If only I could smuggle myself out of the house and get away! I thought of appealing to Lithputh for help, but that was no use. I had seriously unsettled him and I suspected he would cheerfully betray me to the crowd.